


"An angel come to save me"

by orphan_account



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Best Friends, Brotherly Love, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jack Kelly is a good person fite me m8, Non-Graphic Violence, Platonic Relationships, idk how to tag this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 10:11:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14186601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: ~NOT A SHIP FIC~Race was cold. And hungry. And really, really tired.It had been an awful day selling, people had been so rude at Sheepshead he had to leave early, and skip lunch to sell the rest of his papers. It was already past curfew, so Race stuck to the shadows and alleys that would, hopefully, keep him away from getting arrested or beaten.Race is out a bit too late and gets into some trouble, but Jack comes to get him out.Some 10/10 platonic love going on here





	"An angel come to save me"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SomedayonBroadway](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=SomedayonBroadway).



> This is the first request fic I've posted! Special thanks to SomedayonBroadway for giving me this request, I had a REALLY good time writing it!

Race was cold. And hungry. And really, really tired.

It had been an awful day selling, people had been so rude at Sheepshead he had to leave early, and skip lunch to sell the rest of his papers. It was already past curfew, so Race stuck to the shadows and alleys that would, hopefully, keep him away from getting arrested or beaten.

Still, he knew that the Delanceys liked to stroll the Manhattan streets at night at beat up on kids they found trying to get home. Generally, they stayed within a few blocks of the lodging house to get kids before they got back.

Race’s pace picked up as he neared the house, and he listened closely for any noise or footsteps. The street was empty, and you could hear the rowdy boys inside playing cards and eating dinner, joking and wrestling with each other.

Maybe that’s what covered the sound of the footsteps as they neared Race. He lit up a cigar and began to walk just a bit faster when he realized there was going to be nobody there if he did get caught. He was too prideful to run, however. As a Newsie, there was nothing worse that you could to than to show fear to somebody like the Delancey brothers.

Race had finally started to figure he was fine when he saw a shadow out of the corner of his eye, but before he could turn, there was a hand yanking the cigar out of his mouth and clamping itself over it. A second pair, obviously the other Delancey, grabbed Race’s arms and pulled them behind his back, locking him in place.

Race’s eyes widened as he realized what was going on. In the blink of an eye, Morris pressed his lit cigar into Race’s neck. Race tried to scream as his flesh burned underneath the cigar, but there was nothing he could do. The Delancey’s hands were gloved, so biting did him no good.

He was restrained completely and dragged back into an alley, where both Delancey’s grinned wickedly as Oscar held a knife to Race’s throat and threatened to kill him on the spot if he did anything he wasn’t meant to. 

Race kept his mouth shut as Morris’ hand was pulled away from his mouth, his hands trembling where they were being held behind his back.

“So, _Racer_.” Oscar snarled with a twisted smile on his face. “You’re going to answer some questions for us. Without being difficult, you hear me? No wise-cracking this time around.” Race was in too much fear to do anything but nod. This was going too far. 

Race realised, in that moment, that he was going to die. The Delancey brothers were going to use him for information and then slit his throat right there, and nobody would question it because this was New York and he was a kid living on the streets. He would live and die and be completely forgotten.

Still, there was nothing he could do to escape the hold he was in, and they were so far down the alley that it was more than unlikely anybody would stumble across him before the brothers got their kicks. He figured the least he could do was protect his friends.

“So, Higgins.” Morris began from behind him, gripping his arms even tighter. “My brother Oscar here is going to get some rope, and you’re gonna let yourself get tied up, you hear?” He asked. Race didn’t answer, his face paling as he was tied up and dropped carelessly to the damp ground. His head hit the floor harshly and he groaned in pain. The brothers crouched down beside him, one grabbing his hair to yank him into a sitting position.

“What is with you and Brooklyn?” Oscar asked first. Race decided he would answer only questions about himself, nothing that could hurt his friends.

“I sell there.” He replied. Morris spoke next.

“Any relation between you and Spot Conlon.”

“I don’t know.” Race answered. Oscar scowled and without a second thought, punched Race across the jaw. He hissed in pain, his eyes hardening. Morris looked at him with fury.

“Yes, you do. You live in Manhattan. What’s your relationship with Jack Kelly?” He asked. Race scowled and shrugged as best he could through his restraints.

“I don’t know, what _is_ my relationship with Jack Kelly?” He grinned, though he was punched twice more, harsher than before. Race had accepted that this would be how it went for him.

“Goddammit, Higgins!” Morris exclaimed, sliding something on his hands. Race gulped and prepared for the blow.

It came harder than he had expected. The brass knuckled connected harshly with Race’s temple and his vision went double.

“We’re gonna try this one more time.” Oscar said, poison dripping from his voice. “What is your relationship with Jack Kelly?”

“I said.” Race turned to side and spit, trying to ignore the sheer amount of blood collecting in his mouth. “I don’t know.” 

Morris scowled at him and the brass knuckles connected with Race’s cheekbones this time, and the Delaney’s didn’t stop. They kept hitting him, tied up in an alley, on the streets of New York.

Race spat at Oscar bravely and both brothers looked at him with rage, before Morris delivered one more punch and Race slumped backwards against the wall, his vision going black.

~~~~

Jack was getting worried. It was nearly an hour past curfew and Race still wasn’t back yet. When he stayed over in Brooklyn it was only because of weather, and it hadn’t rained or snowed all day. Nobody had come by to give him any information, and he was getting increasingly nervous for the well-being of his friend.

Jack was losing his game of spit, which only ever happened when he got too distracted to play. Crutchie had noticed. He always did.

“Jack, what’s on your mind?” He asked gently. Jack put his cards down before speaking.

“I ain’t seen Racer all day. It’s been over and hour and he’s not back yet, and there was no word from him or anyone else that he’d be staying in Brooklyn.” He said with anxiety. Crutchie looked worried as he realized the situation, as well.

“Oh my god.” Jack nodded his agreement. 

“I’m gonna go look for him.” Crutchie looked worried, but didn’t object. “Bring your switch.” He added. Jack looked at him and nodded. It would be smart.

“I’ll go grab it. Thanks, Crutch.” Jack said, dashing to the fire escape to dig through his belongings, pulling out the switchblade he hadn’t used in months. 

“For Racer’s sake.” Jack mumbled as he climbed down the fire escape and put the blade in his pocket. He climbed down the fire escape and started down the street.

Jack had barely made it a block towards Brooklyn when it hit him where Race would be. 

“ _Shit._ ” He muttered, pressing himself against the wall so he could look into the alley both ways. Race wasn’t there, so Jack continued. He had made it almost another full block when he heard the unmistakable sound of boots hitting flesh. 

Jack cursed under his breath and thought for a moment. He could hear two familiar voices, and he knew immediately that it was the Delancey brothers. He thought about the way they played.

This wasn’t going to be pretty, Jack knew. He grabbed the switchblade out of his pocket and reassured himself it was just for the sake of scaring the boys off, and that he wouldn’t use the knife unless he had to.

Jack crept along the wall, using the shadows and the noise the Delancey’s were making to get close. He saw what they were beating on: A limp Race, tied up and bloodied in a heap on the ground. Jack almost screamed in anger, dashing forward and grabbing Oscar by the shirt collar, flicking open his blade and holding it against the other’s neck. Morris froze.

“Drop your weapons.” Jack said through clenched teeth. When neither boy moved, he pulled Oscar closer. “ _Now._ ” he gritted out. The brothers looked at each other and dropped their blades and brass knuckles on the ground. Jack smiled despite himself.

“Good.” He said, pure fury coursing through his veins. He pulled the knife away and released Oscar, shoving him towards his brother. He walked towards them.

“Now get out of here, and don’t even think about coming back or I might not be so nice next time. _Am I clear?_ ” The brothers nodded and turned, sprinting out of the alleyway as quickly as they could.

Jack turned immediately after he was sure the two were gone, towards Race. He was unconscious, covered in bruises and blood. Jack hoped, for his friend’s sake, that it wasn’t as bad as it looked.

He used his blade to cut his friend free, and cursed under his breath when he didn’t stir. He’s back to get him back to the lodging house, and _quick._ Jack picked Race up after putting every weapon he could see in his pockets. No way was he risking the brothers getting their hands back on their things.

He pulled his friend tightly into his arms and began the thankfully short walk home, his arms straining to carry the lanky boy all the way to the lodging house without hurting him further. 

When he arrived, Jack walked quickly through the dining hall, explaining what had happened in a rushed voice. He took Race to the bathroom and washed the blood off of his temple and arms, setting his broken ribs carefully and bandaging him up. Jack thanked whatever god there was that Race stayed asleep the whole time, and carried him over to the bed to lay down until he woke up.  
~~~~~

Race awoke twenty minutes later and almost immediately shut his eyes from the light. Jack, who had been sitting next to his bed, rushed over and grinned wide. His eyes were bloodshot, Race figured from crying.

“Holy shit, Race.” Jack mumbled, placing a hand on Race’s shoulder to still him when he tried to sit up.

“Not yet, bud. I think you busted a rib.” Race’s eyebrows furrowed.

“I _what_?” He asked incredulously. Jack reluctantly nodded.

“Yeah. The Delancey’s got you good. You’re staying here for a couple of days until you can sell again.” Race huffed in frustration.

“That’s not fair! I’ve got to sell-” Jack placed a comforting hand on Race’s shoulder.

“Kid, calm down. I’ll cover your sales this week, just be glad you’re alive. I thought they’d gone too far for a while there. Thought for sure you were a goner.” Jack mumbled. Race’s expression softened.

“Hey, Jack, it’s okay. I’m alive, and I’m not hurt too bad. My wrists are sore as hell, though.” Race mumbled, and Jack quietly apologized. 

“I know you’re still scared, Race. I’ve been jumped by them, too. But you need to tell me what they were after so we can keep this from happening again.” Race looked anxious, but nodded anyways.

He explained the questions he was asked, and why he was late, as well as any other questions Jack had for him. They settled into a comfortable silence after discussing it. 

Jack had made sure to let Race know that he would slide a bed over to sleep next to him and take care of any issues he had with his wounds, which Jack had dressed while he was still knocked out.

Almost ten minutes later, Jack had begun to settle into bed, convinced that Race had fallen asleep, when his friend spoke quietly.

“Hey, Jack?” He asked, his voice barely audible even though there was nobody else in the room yet.

“Yeah, Racer?” Jack responded anxiously.

“Thank you. For, you know, saving me. I owe you everything.” He said quietly. Jack smiled softly and reached across to the other boy’s bed, grabbing his hand it squeezing it comfortingly.

“Any time, kid. I care about you.” Race hummed happily and within minutes, found himself asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic came out a lot longer than I intended oh well.
> 
> I actually really like the way this came out, and I hope you all enjoyed it as well!
> 
> Comments/Kudos/Bookmarks/More fic requests are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Have a good day!
> 
> <3


End file.
